Chapter 2-2
524 Words
There was no Mrs. Pierce. Well, no, that
wasn’t quite true. There had to have been one at some point, or
Mikey wouldn’t be in the picture. But he didn’t quite know what had
happened to her—his story changed every time he told it, and each
year at school when he had to introduce himself to the class, he
had a different take on why he only lived with his dad.
The first time I heard it, Mrs. Pierce had
died in a horrific auto accident when Mikey was just a baby.
Somehow, miraculously, he’d managed to escape, a death-defying feat
that left the whole first grade class breathless and the teacher
close to tears. The next year, Mrs. Pierce had died in childbirth,
taking with her Mikey’s unborn sister. Third grade, she’d been
offed by the measles, and fourth, the plague. By the time we
reached middle school, I figured out she must still be alive
because I saw a Christmas card in Mikey’s locker signed Mom.
But I didn’t mention it and each year he killed her off in more
gruesome, horrific ways. I figured he must’ve had his own reasons
for doing so and never let on that I knew otherwise.
Without her in the picture, though, I was
able to fantasize about the husband left behind. I was too young, I
knew, but I was growing fast and in my daydreams, Mr. Pierce
noticed. As I hit puberty, my fantasies involving him grew bold. In
my mind I was flirty, sexy, and fun, witty, capturing his heart
with ease. In one of my favorites, he begged to touch me but I
refused, standing before him gloriously naked and making him hunger
as I jerked off on him. To see such a big, strong man kneeling in
front of me, groveling to take me, to love me, was heady indeed. I
came in such a heated rush after that dream, and I had it so
frequently, that I took to washing my own bed sheets so my mother
wouldn’t notice.
The only problem with my crush was I grew
embarrassed to be around Mr. Pierce. Now when he came by our home
to do the occasional odd job, I hid in my bedroom and snuck glances
of him from out the window. When I visited Mikey, I kept my head
down, my cheeks blazing hot, my words mumbled if Mr. Pierce spoke
to me. It was an awkward time, made worse by the fact that just
seeing Mr. Pierce gave me a raging hard-on. Being under the same
roof with him, in the same room even, made me want to
burst.
Mikey didn’t notice. He wouldn’t—he was too
obtuse. He’d recently discovered girls and spent all his time
talking about t**s and ass. Because I didn’t want him to know I
liked d**k, I faked an interest in his porno mags and pixilated
print-outs of naked chicks. More specifically, I didn’t want him to
know I liked his father, of all people. So I pored over the
Playboys he stole from somewhere, and if he managed to steal
something a little more hard-core, I looked at the naked men who
fucked the girls Mikey liked. It was win-win for both of us.
- Writer
